


Still Breathing

by SeeWell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A woman's place is in the rebellion, Abuse of Angelic Grace, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angelic Grace, Angels, Angels Are Watching Over You, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Castiel Meets Charlie Bradbury, Character Death, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Charlie Bradbury & Sam Winchester Friendship, Charlie Bradbury Lives, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, Fallen Angels, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Guardian Angels, Hurt Charlie Bradbury, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Grace, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Charlie Bradbury, Protective Charlie Bradbury, Secondary destiel - Freeform, Slow Burn, Stolen Grace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-02-12 03:37:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12950472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeWell/pseuds/SeeWell
Summary: I know I'm not the only frustrated queer woman watching this show (or frustrated woman in general), so I wrote something just for us. I un-fridged Charlie and gave her a friend/potential love interest. This fic doesn't focus on our favorite closet cases. It follows our favorite loud, proud, nerdy, Pride Queen.Charlie didn't move on after she died. She's trapped on Earth. She's not strong enough to manifest and interact with the physical world and she becomes increasingly desperate. She has vital information about the current Big Bad and she needs to tell her friends. Things seem bleak and hopeless until one day something bizarre happens and changes everything.Charlie sees a monster approaching her haunting ground and she seems to be the only one who realizes the danger. She musters up the courage to banish the beast. She's not at all prepared for what happens next.





	1. Burned

It hurts, watching them lift her body from the bathtub and carry it away. She can’t talk and her memory is a little fuzzy but she knows these men are her friends and she knows they’re suffering. She also knows ghosts have the ability to manifest themselves and move objects but for whatever reason she can’t contact them. She can only watch as the two men carry her body out the motel room.

They come back inside, scrub the room clean and collect her few material belongings. Sam and Dean Winchester. They are hunters. They’re more than friends; they’re her brothers. Maybe that’s why it hurts more when she feels them burn her body. She expected to go with them when they drove away but she didn’t. She’s trapped at the motel. She feels it when the fire ignites and licks at her corpse. It stings, but that’s not the source of the pain. 

She sits on the bed and clutches her chest. She’s not sure if “sitting” is something ghosts can do. For all she knows she’s floating. It doesn’t feel like floating. It feels like sinking. It feels like this form is cracking and breaking from the inside. It hurts and she’s surprised she can feel anything at all. 

Burning her body will force her to move on. Where she’ll go isn’t clear yet, but she doesn’t expect to be welcomed by a fleet of singing angels. She lies on her side and waits for the burning to end. 

It goes on well into the night and into the next day. She closes her eyes and time slips away. When she opens her eyes again the room is dark and still unoccupied. She’s not sure if she slept. She’s not sure ghosts can sleep. She’s not tired but she’s not terribly rested either. The burning persists. 

She doesn’t know how long it takes for the fire to die. Maybe three days, maybe more. She’s lost track. All she knows is that when it’s over, she’s still lying on the bed in her empty motel room. She still feels their pain. She hears them whisper her name and say goodbye. She feels them let her go. 

She used to be Charlie Bradbury. Maybe that’s not true anymore. She closes her eyes again. She won’t be here much longer. 

* * *

The motel clock reads 7:38 a.m. on some day of some month of some year. Technically, she’s still dead. A man and woman check into the room. They occupy the bed so Charlie moves to a corner by the desk. It doesn’t feel like any time has passed at all. It feels like just minutes ago Sam and Dean were standing, horrified, over her body. Maybe she’d just imagined the burning. 

Her chest still hurts, still feels cracked. It gnaws at her like hunger gnaws at an empty stomach. She waits until the man and woman stop grinding against each other, then steps out from the corner.

“Hello?” She doesn’t mean it to sound like a question, but technically it is. Can they hear her? Is she dead? Is this Earth or is it some otherworldly imitation? 

They don’t acknowledge her. The man stands up and slips back into his pants. Charlie touches his shoulder. He shivers and quickly puts his shirt back on. He turns up the heat while the woman gets dressed. 

Charlie doesn’t know why, but her chest hurts more. She retreats back to her corner and discovers ghosts can cry. 

The sun rises and sets a few more times. More people come and go from the dingy little room. Charlie can’t stop thinking about her brothers. They mourned her and let her go. They burned her body and her possessions. They gave up.

The last thought makes her chest seize so she banishes it. She closes her eyes again.

Four more guest check in and out of the room before she thinks about her brothers again. They loved her. They burned her out of respect, not because she wasn’t worth reviving. They’ve burned other loved ones. They didn’t mean to leave her behind. They don’t know she’s trapped. 

She sits against the wall and leans her head back to stare at the ceiling. The room is empty again. She’s alone. 

They didn’t mean to leave her. Even if they did, it’s not the first time she’s been forgotten. She knows how to bounce back. She’s a fighter; or at least she used to be. She has two choices; she can sit in this quiet motel room for eternity, or she can take action 

She clenches her teeth and forces herself to stand. She’s grieved long enough. The first order of business is to figure out why she’s still here. Ghosts have unfinished business. Charlie has a mountain of unfinished business so it’s no surprise she’s stuck. The Winchesters clearly tried to prevent that from happening. She hasn’t even tried to leave her room. For all she knows she could walk back to the bunker and try to get their attention. 

With newfound determination, she approaches the door to her room. She takes a step forward and walks through to the other side. 

* * *

Charlie’s territory consists of the entire motel property, the road beyond the parking lot, the gas station on the road behind the motel and an undeveloped parcel of land not far from the motel lobby. She maps out her new home by pacing around the perimeter. At first, she thinks she can expand the area with brute force. She keeps walking until whatever is holding her drags her back to the room.

She’s searched the room over and over again but nothing belongs to her. She still can’t move objects, so she has to wait for guests and housekeeping to do the lifting for her. She’s disappointed by how little is actually done to keep the room clean.

Every time she pushes the limits of her territory, she’s dragged back to the same spot. She ends up in the middle of the desk with her torso hovering over the top, half obscured by a small lamp, and her legs hidden underneath. She’s checked under and around the desk and found nothing. The bottom of the lamp is elevated slightly; enough for something small to be trapped underneath, and there is a drawer in the desk. Unfortunately, neither guests nor housekeeping are motivated to open the drawer or move the lamp.

Charlie can see under the lamp, but just barely. She can move through both the drawer and the lamp, but she can’t feel anything and wouldn’t be able to grip it even if she could. Somewhat reluctantly, she realizes she’s going to need to develop her poltergeist potential.

Seven guests later, Charlie catches a break. A man is in the shower and she’s concentrated all of her effort on moving the pen on the desk. The water shuts off and the man suddenly emerges naked from the bathroom. Startled, she jumps and the pen goes with her.

She looks down at the object in her hand and finally something other than a dull ache spread through her. In her excitement she cries out and bounces on her toes.

“I moved the pen,” she exclaims. “I did that. I moved it!”

She glances up at the man. He’s very pale and frozen in place. His eyes are fixed on the pen. 

“Oh my God,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” She sets it back down on the desk and his eyes follow. “Can you hear me or see me?”

He doesn’t answer. He grabs clothes and dresses quickly without bothering to dry off first.

“Hello?”

He stays quiet and rushes to pack his belongings. He practically runs out of the room without acknowledging her. 

Charlie puts her hands on her hips. His eyes stayed on the pen so he probably didn’t see her. He didn’t scream or talk back when she spoke, so he probably didn’t hear her either. 

She turns back to the pen. “Ok friend,” she says, “Let’s see what else we can do.”

After some practice, Charlie discovers she is very good at throwing the pen but not much else. She’s focused her attention on the lamp, but she can’t lift it. She shoves the pen under the bottom but there’s not much wiggle room.

She glares at it. Unfortunately, it seems she needs to do something drastic. She jabs the lamp with the pen like an ape learning to use a termite stick for the first time. The lamp topples from the desk and the ceramic base shatters. It’s loud but she doesn’t care. She’s found what she was looking for. A small silver flash drive is sitting where the lamp used to be. 

She drops the pen. It’s hers, her favorite. It’s 64 gigs, smaller than a house key and it’s loaded with occult research. There are things she never got the chance to tell the Winchesters, things they need to know. 

Suddenly the door opens. A maintenance man and a man from the front desk enter. She tries and fails to lift the flash drive. 

“He was probably just high,” says maintenance. 

“Then what did we just hear?” asks the front desk.

It doesn’t take them long to discover the broken lamp. 

The front desk shakes his head. “I’m out,” he says. “It’s a ghost.” He backs toward the door.

Maintenance rolls his eyes. “It’s not a ghost. The guest was hallucinating and the lamp was probably sitting too close to the edge of the desk. It’s gravity, not ghosts.” He points to the desk. “What’s this?” He shivers as he walks through Charlie and takes the small silver flash drive.

“No,” breathes Charlie. She tries to take it back, but fails. 

“Don’t know, don’t care,” says the front desk. “I’m not going to hang out in the ghost room.” He leaves maintenance and Charlie behind. 

Maintenance slips the drive into his pocket then proceeds to clean up the broken lamp.

When he leaves, Charlie follows him to his office. She watches him lock the flash drive in a drawer. She stares at it, helpless, and tries to figure out a new plan. 

* * *

Hope seems to be the key. The moments when she has hope, is determined to leave the motel, can picture reuniting with her family, those are the moments when her ghost powers are the strongest.

Unfortunately she has no control over those moments and they become more illusive as time drags on. She tries to summon her motivation but the ache in her chest has returned and it’s harder to fight back this time.


	2. The Light Giant

Sometimes it’s difficult for Charlie to remember what exactly she’s doing at the motel. She’s not sure why she keeps drifting from her room to the maintenance office or why she stands in the parking lot staring at the road. 

She sleeps more often and honestly doesn’t see the point in doing anything else. Sometimes she’ll have a moment of clarity, a moment that makes her feel human again. She clings to those as long as she can and uses that time trying to get into the maintenance man’s desk. She tells herself not to lose hope when she fails, but after a certain number of failures, it’s difficult not to get discouraged. 

She’s discouraged again today. She’s pacing, or drifting, along the front walkway. She keeps glancing at the road though she can’t remember what she’s looking for. After a while she stops pacing and just stares at the horizon. The sun is setting. She watches the light fade as darkness slowly bleeds over the sky. 

Night begins, but doesn’t consume the sky. It stagnates. There’s a glow beyond the trees, bright like the sun, and it refuses to dim.

Charlie squints at it. The glow is significant to distract her from meditating on failure. There are a few people outside, packing and unpacking their cars, but they don’t seem disturbed by the phenomenon. She blinks and realizes the light is getting brighter. It hovers over the tree line. It’s moving, coming closer. She feels like she's dreaming. A monster is on the horizon and no one seems to care. But it's not a dream. This is as real as everything has been since she died. 

It’s almost blinding, bright white with a blue glow at the edges. As it approaches Charlie can make out a form. It’s a creature, something gigantic and humanoid. She blinks and sees black holes of varying size and shape. The light around them isn't as bright. She looks around expecting someone else to be transfixed but no one else seems to notice. 

The creature is almost at the motel. It’s eerily silent as it moves. Trees don’t bow or break. The ground doesn’t tremble as it takes a step. There is no heavy breath or threatening growl, and still, no one notices. Charlie tries to make sense of what she’s seeing but she has no frame of reference for it. She takes in the figure one piece at a time, arms, a head, a torso, and bizarre extra limbs extending from the torso. The lower part of the body is obscured by trees and buildings.

She blinks at it again. It’s so close now that she can feel the heat rolling off of its body. It’s going to destroy the motel. People are going to die. These stupid, oblivious people are going to die. Charlie rushes to the nearest guest. 

“Run,” she cries. Of course no one can hear her. She tries to grab a woman by her shoulder. “Something’s coming,” she shouts. “You’ve got to get out of here.” She spins around, desperate to see if anyone can hear her. 

The light-monster is massive. It looms over the motel, seemingly only a few footsteps away. 

Charlie runs from person to person screaming. She bangs on doors, cars and windows. She’s useless. No one can hear her or see her.

Suddenly the monster moves from the trees. It's in the middle of the street and it stops at the intersection across from the motel.

Charlie is the only one here with nothing to lose. She’s the only one who can stop it. She clenches her fists and walks toward it, prepared for whatever confrontation might follow. She scans the monster and is taken aback when she looks down at its feet. It’s not standing; it doesn't even have legs. The bottom half is closer to a tail than anything else. It appears to be tethered to a car. The car is waiting for the light to turn green. 

Charlie is stunned when the vehicle pulls into the parking lot. The light monster floats along with it, almost like a parade float. The car parks near the lobby and the driver emerges.

She rushes to get a better look. When the driver emerges, the monster follows. It's is spilling from the back of the driver’s body. It spills from their back like a dense fog and expands into the sky. When the driver nods to another guest, the guest takes no notice of the giant light humanoid nodding overhead. 

The driver is nearly impossible to see, shadowed by the monster. They stretch and the monster stretches too. It extends its long arms upwards and the limbs at its back unfold and sweep outward. Charlie realizes she’s looking at wings; six wings, bright and intimidating.

The driver rolls their shoulders and suddenly, the monster glows bright blue then quickly shrinks, seeming to fold back into the driver.

Charlie can see the person a bit better now. It appears to be a woman, her black hair pulled back in a long braid. She looks like every other human. Even her clothes are unassuming. She’s wearing jeans and a loose t-shirt. She strolls up to the lobby as if nothing strange or remarkable had happened. 

Charlie follows her. The woman’s stride is quick but somewhat unsteady. She pushes through the lobby door and Charlie is right on her heels.

“I’m looking for a room for a couple of nights,” says the woman. 

“Single or double?” asks the clerk at the desk. 

“Cheapest room you’ve got.” 

The clerk hands her a sheet to fill out and she hands over her license and credit card. 

Charlie gathers her nerves then pokes at the woman’s shoulder. The woman brushes her sleeve, annoyed, but doesn’t acknowledge Charlie. 

She takes her cards and the room key from the clerk and turns back to the door. She doesn’t stop at her car to gather her belongings. She goes straight to her room, shuts the door with a little too much force and promptly locks it. She sighs then collapses face-first onto the bed. 

Wide-eyed, Charlie circles her. This could be anything. She hopes it’s not a demon. She bites her lip. “Chriso,” she hisses.

The woman doesn’t budge. 

“The power of Christ compels you,” whispers Charlie. She draws a cross in the air with her hand. “Away with you.”

Nothing. 

“Go away,” says Charlie. “Back to Hell.” 

The woman groans and Charlie jumps. 

The woman begins muttering something in an unfamiliar language.

Charlie feels something tugging at her, pulling her away. “Stop,” she shouts. “Christo! Stop it!” 

The woman rubs her head. “Dammit,” she mutters. She squints in Charlie’s general direction. “You’re lucky I can’t remember the rest of it.” 

Charlie freezes. “Hello?” 

“Hi.”

“Oh my God, you can hear me?” 

“And see you.” 

“Oh my God,” Charlie shouts again. 

The woman groans. “You’re new, aren’t you? I bet you’ve been dead less that a year.” 

“I don’t know,” says Charlie. Her excitement outweighs her fear and she can’t help herself. “I stopped checking the days and time is so different when you’re dead. They don’t change the stupid calendar in the office and the clocks only tell the hour. Why doesn’t anyone care about the days any more? Why doesn't anyone care about anything anymore? People are so different when you're dead. Why is that?” 

“Great,” she mutters. “A lonely one.” 

“How do you know I’m a ghost?” asks Charlie. “No one else can see me or hear me. I’ve been trying, but I can’t even move stuff. I grabbed a pen once, but I can’t even do that any more.” 

“You’ll get stronger,” says the woman. “Look, I can’t remember the spell to banish you. I’m exhausted, I’m hungry, and tomorrow I’m going to wake up with a terrible hangover. Can you shut up for just a few hours?” 

Charlie’s face falls. “Oh,” she says. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—” She stops and suddenly remembers she supposed to be trying to get rid of this thing. “Christo,” she shouts. 

Glaring, the woman pushes herself up and jabs a finger at Charlie. “Stop that,” she says. 

“No,” says Charlie. “I don’t know what you are, but you’re not going to eat anybody here.”

The woman blinks at her.

“Christo,” shouts Charlie. 

The woman sighs. “You know, they say a sign of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result.” 

“You can’t stay here,” says Charlie. “I know what you are.” 

“Clearly you don’t.” 

“I know you’re a monster,” counters Charlie. “A giant - a big one.”

“You saw my true form,” says the woman.

“If your true form is a big light monster, then yeah, I did.”

The woman mutters to herself. “I thought humans had to be dead for a lot longer.” 

“You were wrong,” says Charlie. “I know your secret.” 

“So? You’re dead and you just said you can’t communicate with the humans. What are you going to do?” 

“I’ll haunt the shit out of your room for starters,” snaps Charlie. 

The woman snorts. “You’re a fighter, I’ll give you that.” 

Charlie doesn’t know what that means but she braces herself for an attack. 

“You can calm down,” says the woman. “I’m an angel. I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

Charlie knows her mouth is hanging open.

“I’m Sabiya,” she says. “And you are? Or – were?”

“Um, I’m, um,” she says, before finally settling on her name. “Charlie. I’m Charlie.”

Sabiya scratches her chin. “How dead are you, Charlie?”

“All the way dead? I’m not sure.” 

“If you were all the way dead you wouldn’t be invading my room. What’s holding you back?” 

“Oh,” said Charlie, she has to think about it for a moment. It's oddly grounding having the angel-monster staring at her. “My flash drive," she says finally. "Maintenance has it and I can’t get it out of the drawer.” 

“What about your body?” 

“My friends burned it,” answers Charlie. She bites her lip. “They’re hunters. They were trying to make sure I was at peace. They missed the flash drive.”

Sabiya raises an eyebrow. “You’re not, by chance, talking about the Winchester brothers, are you?” 

“Yes,” answers Charlie. The name "Winchester" helps her memory. “Sam and Dean. They’re like my brothers.” 

Sabiya groans. “Lucky me.” 

“I need to get the flash drive to them. There’s a ton of info on there and they need it. They don’t know they need it, but they do. I didn’t get a chance to tell them.” 

The angel shakes her head. “No,” she says. “No ghost quest. No Winchesters.” 

“They’re trying to save the world,” says Charlie. 

“That’s not exactly news.”

“They need help. I don’t need to live again, I just need to get the information to them. They have an angel – Castiel – maybe you could give it to him? I’ll leave you alone after that, I swear.” 

Sabiya stares. “You can’t leave this property, right?” 

Charlie nods. 

“Good.” She stands and collects her things.

“No, please,” exclaims Charlie. She reaches out and her hand brushes Sabiya’s shoulder. Charlie feels it. 

Sabiya examines her, lips pursed.

Charlie is holding her hand like her fingers were just burned. It almost felt like a burn. She almost feels something.

“Winchesters are notorious for bringing the dead back to life.” 

Charlie looks away from her hand. Her chest feels cold and hollow again. She knows where this is going.

“They left you dead. They must not need you.” 

“They must think I’m at peace.” 

“Or they don’t c—” 

“They don’t leave family behind,” says Charlie. “Sometimes death is better. Their lives are brutal and they don’t like anyone being forced to live the way they do.” 

Sabiya runs a hand over her face and sighs. “All right ghostie,” she says. “Where’s your flash drive?”


	3. Not Yet

It takes Sabiya less than 30 seconds to retrieve the drive. She sets it on the desk and crosses her arms over her chest. 

“Wow,” says Charlie. “I could have used you months ago.” She tries to pick it up, knowing she’s not going to succeed. “How long do I have to be dead before I can touch stuff?”

“Depends on your skills.”

“Can you teach me?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to upgrade you to a poltergeist,” answers Sabiya. 

Charlie huffs. “But you will help me?” 

“Yes,” she answers. “Tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to rest and recharge.” 

Charlie nods. “I’ll be quiet.” She goes to the corner of the room and sits against the wall. 

Sabiya raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting,” answers Charlie. 

“Not in my room.” 

“I need to guard the flash drive.” 

Sabiya rolls her eyes. “You know what? I don’t even care anymore.” She picks it up and sets it on the carpet in front of Charlie. “Guard to your heart’s content. Don’t wake me up.” 

Charlie nods again. “Thank you,” she says. 

Sabiya sighs and turns off the lights. 

Charlie hears the mattress creek. “Good night,” she hisses. 

Sabiya mutters something in return. 

At some point, after staring at the floor for too long, Charlie remembers something Dean said about angels. Curious, she sneaks away from her post and stalks over to the bed. The angel is snoring softly. She’s wrapped up beneath a pile of blankets. She waves her hand in front of the angel’s face. Dean said Castiel didn’t sleep, but Sabiya certainly looks like she’s asleep.

Maybe Charlie’s memory is wrong. Not for the first time, she reaches for her pocket to text the brothers out of habit. She purses her lips and returns to her corner. She sits and rests her head in her hands. Technology is a luxury reserved for the living. She’ll never experience it again. She’s going to deliver the information to the Winchesters and then she’ll move on – her life is finished. She doesn’t know why, but she suddenly feels cold.

When Sabiya wakes in the morning, Charlie doesn’t notice. She’s startled from her trance when the angel speaks. 

“Hey ghostie” she says. “You still on this plane?” 

Charlie blinks up at her. 

“You don’t look so good.”

“I’m dead,” says Charlie. 

“I guess that’s fair.” The angel stretches and massive dark shadows emerge from her back. They stretch along with her arms and span the width of the room. Her body is silhouetted in a faint blue glow. 

Charlie forgets herself and stares openly. 

Sabiya rolls her shoulders and the shadows fade. She catches Charlie’s eye and she scratches the back of her neck. “So we should get started,” she says, nodding to the flash drive.

“Right,” says Charlie. She realizes too late her mouth was hanging open.

Sabiya retrieves the drive from the floor. “Listen, ghos—Charlie, you know if I give this to them, you won’t move on.”

Charlie starts to speak but Sabiya holds up a finger.

“The best thing to do is copy the information so your friends can have it. Then we’ll—um—you know?” 

“Oh,” is all Charlie can think to say. She doesn’t know what she was expecting. Obviously they’ll have to destroy the thing binding her to Earth. “If you give it to them, will I go with it?” 

Sabiya sighs. “Is there a way to copy this?” she asks.

“Yes, but you didn’t answer my question.”

The angel looks at her. She’s so focused it makes Charlie want to shrink or disappear. After a moment, she speaks. “You have to move on,” she says. “You understand that, right? I can’t bring you back or reunite you with the Winchesters.” 

Charlie nods. She doesn’t ask why and she bites back the temptation to plead her case. She suspects that when Sabiya says “can’t” she means “won’t” and it doesn’t matter why she won’t do it. The angel could have a perfectly logical reason, but it won’t stop Charlie from hating her for it. She doesn’t want to hate anyone right now. Sabiya is just another being with the power to help but not the will. 

“We need to copy this information,” says Sabiya.

“We need another flash drive,” says Charlie. “Do you have a laptop?”

“No. Is that a problem?”

“We can use one of the staff computers,” says Charlie. “It’s not a big deal. I’m sure someone has a flash drive we can steal. It might not be big enough though. We might need more than one.” She babbles through her plan. Sabiya doesn’t object or interrupt. 

It turns out it’s remarkably easy for a ghost and an angel to sneak around and get what they need. They end up with two flash drives and find an empty computer, but they hit an unexpected speed bump.

Charlie blinks as Sabiya searches for the USB port. The angel checks the keyboard, monitor, computer and finally the mouse.

“You don’t know how to use a computer, do you?” asks Charlie. 

“I do,” mutters the angel. “It’s just been a while.”

Charlie shows her the ports. “Plug mine in and one of the extras.”

Sabiya fumbles with the devices and it takes her a few seconds to figure things out. “Sorry,” she mutters.

“It’s ok,” says Charlie. “I’ll walk you through it. We need a password to log in. I bet it’s written down somewhere.” She points out places to stash a password, and sure enough, they find it written on a scrap of paper tapped to the bottom of the keyboard. 

Charlie doesn’t say a word when the angel begins using one finger to type in the letters. She tries to remain encouraging and reminds herself that Sabiya is doing her a favor. She takes her though the process step by step. “Now you need to select the files and copy them to the other drive.” 

Sabiya huffs. She clicks a file.

“Don’t open it though,” says Charlie. “I mean you _can_ open it, but you don’t _need_ to. Just drag and drop.” 

Sabiya mumbles something to herself.

“Do you know what drag and drop means? Click the icon—” 

“I figured it out,” snaps the angel. She mutters something about the 80s and new machines.

It takes two hours. Charlie isn’t sure she was ever that patient when she was alive. Once they’re back in Sabiya’s room it hits Charlie that this is it. This is the end. 

“So I’ll give these to Castiel and then, what?” asks Sabiya. “That’s it, right?”

Charlie nods. She’s going to die again.

“All right,” she says. “I’ll track him down then come back here. I’ll let you know how it goes.” 

Again, Charlie doesn’t know what to say. Part of her wants to get it over with and the other part is so grateful to have a little more time. Time for what, she doesn’t know. 

“You ok, Ghostie?” 

“Yeah,” answers Charlie. 

“I’ll make sure the Winchesters get the information,” she says. “I’ll be back soon.” 

“Ok,” says Charlie. “I’ll be here.” She’s not sad. She can’t be. She’s already dead. 

Sabiya rubs the back of her neck. “I’d bring you back if I could, really. But I can’t—” 

“I know,” says Charlie. “It’s ok. I knew what was coming.” She knows she must look pathetic. The way Sabiya is watching her leaves little room for the imagination. The angel pities her. “Really,” says Charlie. “It’s all right. I’m fine.”

Sabiya sighs and puts the silver 64 gig flash drive in her pocket. “Walk with me,” she says. 

Charlie follows her out of the room. She’s suddenly relieved. Sabiya must have decided to do it now. She doesn’t want to wait alone in the motel and wonder what the next part of her existence will be like. She doesn’t want to tally the people she’ll miss or things she never got to do. She can die now. It’s her time.

Sabiya leads her to the edge of the parking lot, then across the street and past the stoplight. They keep walking for several blocks before she turns around to take them back. It’s the farthest Charlie’s been since she died.

The angel takes them back to the room. She grabs her keys. “Looks like you’re pretty attached to this thing,” she says. 

“It was my favorite,” says Charlie. 

Sabiya bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “So you could come with me,” she says. 

“I thought I had to move on,” says Charlie. 

“You don’t have to move on _yet_.”

“But you said you weren’t going to reunite me with the Winchesters.”

“I’m not. I wasn’t.” She runs a hand over her face. “Just wait for me at the car. I’m going to check out. I’ll be back.” She unlocks the car and tosses the flash drive in a cup holder. 

Charlie takes a seat and wonders what it’s going to feel like to ride as a ghost. Will she keep up? Is she going to drag along behind the car? Is she going to see Sam and Dean again? She’s practically bouncing in her seat when Sabiya returns.

“Now that we know you _can_ travel beyond the motel,” says Sabiya, “it’s safe to let you tag along.”

“I thought you were walking me somewhere to kill me.” 

“First of all, you’re already dead. I’m not going to _kill_ you. Second of all, I’ll warn you before I destroy your item. I won’t make you wonder.” 

“When are you going to do it?” asks Charlie. 

Sabiya huffs. 

“When? I’m wondering now, don’t I get to know?” 

“I’ll deliver the information to Castiel, then I’ll—you’ll—I’ll help you move on,” she says. 

“So like, right after we find Castiel or a little later?” 

“I don’t know,” she mutters. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She hits the gas.

Riding in a car isn’t any different than staying in the motel. Charlie just exists there. She’ll exist as long as Sabiya hesitates. She’s not sure what’s changed to make the angel grant her more time, but she’s not going to complain. She might get to see her family again.


	4. An Inevitability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this fic comes from Green Day's "Still Breathing."

Long ago, thousands of years by human standards, Sabiya was a warrior. She did not fight for Heaven, but for humanity. She, like many other angels, fought alongside mankind though their bloodiest battles. They were tasked with saving lives, but were not allowed to influence the ebb and flow of battle. They did not protect soldiers. They protected civilians.

Sabiya used to save people, but with every new violent outbreak she drifted farther from homes and villages and closer to the front lines. She still didn’t protect soldiers. She began killing. She chose sides, took vessels, used her grace for victory instead of mercy. She interfered with the fate of the world.

She was punished. Her grace diminished and she became a watcher. She could observe humans, walk among them, report their activities, but that was all. When the angels fell, Sabiya’s most recent vessel became her body. The human didn’t survive. 

She doesn’t have a purpose anymore. Now she just exists. The angels are scattered and allied for and against various causes. When the factions began to form, Sabiya quietly slipped away. She’s been alone since the fall. She’s interacted more with the ghost in her car than anyone else in years. She’s torn between missing her solitude and enjoying the companionship.

Maybe loneliness is what compelled her to accept this mission. Maybe she’s going to meet with Castiel, the most treacherous angel since Lucifer, because she’s lonely and she isn’t thinking clearly. It won’t be the first time she’s submitted to the temptation of human emotions.

She’s been functionally human for years. She eats, drinks, sleeps and rarely uses her grace. That’s why it aches now. She can’t remember the last time she used it as much as she has in the past 24 hours. It twinges like an over-worked muscle. It calls out to her true form and coils anxiously in her vessel. It longs for more. 

Movement from the passenger’s seat catches her eye. The ghost is trying to open the glove compartment. The ghost has a name. Charlie. 

Charlie doesn’t know it, but when Sabiya concentrates she can see exactly how she died. She can see the stab wounds and blood and trauma inflicted on her body. Murder is a familiar sight. Charlie is remarkably unburdened considering her gruesome death. She’s very focused and _very_ attached to her living companions. She’s so attached that Sabiya wouldn’t be surprised if destroying her binding item doesn’t help her move on. 

Sabiya suspects Charlie’s killer or killers took something from her body. It could have been a lock of hair, an article of clothing, jewelry – some kind of trophy to commemorate the murder. She’s seen it done before.

Despite the setback, there are several ancient spells to banish ghosts and send them on their way. Sabiya knows of two. She has everything she needs to send Charlie into her next life. She doesn’t even need to destroy the flash drive. She has no idea why she took pity on the ghost and agreed to help her with this stupid quest. Maybe it was the tragic little way Charlie defended the Winchester’s choice to burn her body.

Everyone knows the Winchester brothers only care about hunting and each other. Even Castiel must know the truth by now. Everyone knows but Charlie. She thinks she’s their sister and there’s something heartbreaking about her conviction. Whatever the reason – lonely, gullible, stupid – Charlie’s problems are now Sabiya’s problems.

The ghost sighs and folds her arms over her chest. 

“Giving up?” asks Sabiya.

“Regrouping,” answers Charlie. “I picked up a pen a while back. Did I tell you that? I can’t remember. But I held it and threw it and everything. If I can do that I’m sure I can do more stuff.” 

“That’s a good start,” says Sabiya. “You haven’t been dead very long. I’m not surprised you’re having trouble.”

“Can you tell how long it’s been?” asks Charlie. “I lost track of time.” 

“Based on the way you manifest I’d say a few years or less. Your abilities are pretty sporadic. That’s common for the recently deceased.” She shrugs. “Time is kind of a human thing.” 

“Years?” echoes Charlie. “Anything could have happened. It can’t be a few years.”

“I said _or less than_  a few years,” said Sabiya. “Could be a week or a year. It’s hard to tell. Like I said, time is a human thing. We can ask Castiel when we see him.”

Charlie sighs and returns to staring at the dashboard. 

Charlie refused to surrender the location of the Winchester’s hideout. Instead she’s directed them to a small café. She gave Sabiya Castiel’s phone number and so she could contact him and tell them where to meet. Charlie didn’t why Sabiya wanted a phone number instead of contacting him through their angelic mind-link and Sabiya didn’t volunteer an explanation. Even if Charlie had pressed for an answer Sabiya would have lied.

They pull into the parking lot and Charlie is out of the car before it’s in park. She’s bouncing around the pavement and looking around expectantly. Sabiya makes sure she has all of the flash drives in her pocket then joins her. 

“Will Cas be able to see me?” she asks.

“Probably,” answers Sabiya.

“And that’s ok? I mean, I assume you wouldn’t have let me come this far if I couldn’t see him.”

“It is what it is,” answers Sabiya. She knows they’re heading toward resurrection. In spite of everything she’s said Charlie is going to get a second chance. They’re dancing around the issue thanks to their respective insecurities. It is, however, inevitable. Sabiya's resolve isn't what it used to be.

Once Castiel sees his friend he’ll tell the Winchesters. Once the Winchesters find out, they’ll want her back. Assuming it doesn’t cost them very much, they’ll find a way to bring their dead friend back to life. If Sabiya is thinking it, then Charlie must be thinking it as well.

“That’s his car,” she says. A dirty vehicle pulls into the lot and parks beside the. Charlie waves and the man behind the wheel waves back.

Sabiya frowns. The vessel looks like Castiel’s but there is a different angel using it. Recognition seeps in and she grabs Charlie’s arm. “Lucifer,” she hisses. 

“That’s Cas,” says Charlie. 

The vessel grins and his true form’s wings twitch. “Hello, ladies,” he says. 

Another form is crowded next to Lucifer but it's not paying attention. It looks like Castiel but Lucifer’s grace is blinding and it’s difficult to see. 

Lucifer strolls forward. “You have something important to tell my dear, dear friends. I’m more than happy to deliver the message.”

Charlie frowns. “Cas?” 

“Get behind me and don’t engage,” says Sabiya. “No matter what happens to me, don’t fight him, just do what he says.” She pulls Charlie behind her back and shields her behind her wings. Lucifer can see them but no one else can.

“I don’t understand,” hisses Charlie. 

Sabiya hushes her. Her blade manifests in her hand.

“Is this how you greet your brother?” asks Lucifer. “Don’t tell me you’re still bitter.”

Sabiya doesn’t waste effort talking back. Lucifer always has a plan. He’s toying with them.

“I thought most of the angels lost their wings in the fall,” he says. He eyes her vessel and licks his lips. “But you can still fly, can’t you?” He clicks his tongue. “Dabbling in grace-magic. That’s a slippery slope.” 

Sabiya takes a step back, forcing Charlie back with her. She’s a strong fighter but she’s no match for Lucifer. He’s sizing her up, taking note of her weaknesses, calculating how much effort it will take to destroy her. Any minute now he’ll realize how far she’s fallen. He can kill her with the flick of his wrist.

“Don’t run,” says Lucifer. “If you run, I’ll have to chase you. If I have to chase you, I’ll be very angry.” He extends his hand. “Give me what you came here to deliver and I’ll only flay you a little. I’ll even get rid of that little parasite behind you.” 

She takes another step back. She can feel Charlie pressed against her wings, probably peering over her shoulder.

“Don’t do it,” warns Lucifer. His true form stretches to his full height. His grace glows bright and dangerous and his wings expand. He’s preparing to attack. He doesn’t need to fight, he _wants_ to fight and the thought terrifies Sabiya. He’s having fun.

If she were facing him alone, she’d have already made a move. She would either charge or drop her blade and surrender; either way she’d accept her death. She doesn’t have that luxury now. Some ancient instinct is clawing its way through her body, tearing away at her apathy. It’s not giving her a choice. Sabiya might deserve this fate, but Charlie doesn’t. 

She grits her teeth as Lucifer lunges toward them, vessel and true form moving in furious synchronicity. What’s left of Castiel is consumed by Lucifer’s light. Creation can’t hear the terrible sounds that escape through his teeth, but the noise almost deafens Sabiya.

She turns and wraps Charlie in her arms just as Lucifer crashes forward. She closes her eyes and prays to herself. The roars and screams cease and suddenly the world is still. 

She opens her eyes and lets out a deep breath. Charlie is still with her and she’s clinging to Sabiya’s neck. They’re kneeling together on a thick, blue Persian rug in the middle of the living room. They’re miles away from Lucifer and, for now, they’re safe. 

“Are we dead?” whispers Charlie. 

“We’re all right,” answers Sabiya.

Charlie releases her hold and cracks one eye open. “Is this Heaven?”

“No,” answers Sabiya. 

Charlie stumbles to her feet and brings a hand to her forehead. “That was Lucifer.” 

“Yes.” Sabiya stays on her knees for a moment. She has to catch her breath. She can’t remember the last time she flew this far, much less while carrying a soul.

“What about Cas? I have to do something. I have to tell Sam and Dean.” 

“Castiel and Lucifer are sharing a vessel.” 

“That’s not—how?”

Sabiya shakes her head. “You know as much as I do at this point.”

“I’ve got to tell Sam and Dean. They’re in danger.” She’s running her hands through her hair. She starts pacing like she’s searching for somewhere to go. 

“We’ll figure it out,” says Sabiya. “Whatever we do we need to be very careful about it. Your friends aren’t in any more danger now than they were before.” She gets to her feet and rolls her shoulders. “Castiel is still with them. He’s their best chance to stay safe.” 

Charlie shakes her head. “I’ve got to tell them.” Her eyes are wide, frustrated. “I’ll find a way to contact them. I can do it. You don’t have to go with me. I’ll figure something out. I can do this. I have to do it. They’re my family.” 

Sabiya grabs her by the shoulders. “Stop it,” she says. “We will figure this out. I will not leave you. Your friends will be all right, but we need to stay calm and go in with a plan.”

Charlie stares at her. “He was there,” she says. “That was really Lucifer.”

“Yeah,” she says. “You met the devil and lived to tell the tale.” 

“What do we do now?” 

Sabiya sighs and purses her lips. “I think we have to bring you back to life.”


	5. Vanessa

Charlie doesn’t know how to respond. She feels like a guppy, staring at the angel with her mouth hanging open. Her thoughts tumble through her head but they all reach her mouth at the same time and leave her speechless. 

Sabiya doesn’t look like she’s kidding. 

“You want to live again anyway, right?” asks the angel. 

“Yes,” answers Charlie quickly. “But I thought you said—” 

“I don’t _want_ to bring you back to life,” says Sabiya, “but I don’t think we have another option. Lucifer will find us eventually. When he does, it won’t matter if you go to Heaven or Hell. He’ll wipe me from existence but you,” she shakes her head. “He’ll make sure you suffer.”

“Isn’t he just going to kill me when he finds us?” 

“Probably, but at least this way you’ll have a fighting chance. You’re pretty worthless as a ghost.” 

Charlie cocks her head to the side. “What do I owe you?” 

“It’s not a trade, moron. I’m doing it out of the goodness of my vessel’s heart.” 

“You don’t want anything in return?” 

“Don’t die again, how about that?” 

“Deal,” says Charlie. She sticks out her hand.

Sabiya huffs and accepts the handshake. “Follow me,” she says. “We have to do this outside.”

“Hey, how come I can feel it when you touch me?” asks Charlie.

Sabiya is already walking away. “You can feel my grace,” she answers.

Charlie hurries along behind her. “Why can’t I feel souls?” 

“You’re not strong enough. Don’t worry about it. It won’t matter soon.” 

Charlie follows the angel through the house. The rooms are large with elegant decorations. Sabiya’s vessel is probably rich. The yard is equally impressive. There’s a pool, an herb garden and a gazebo. The landscaping looks like something out of a movie. Trees surround the house and the area is quiet except for the birds. Ahead she sees a body of water. “Where are we?” she asks. 

“Oregon coast.”

“It’s beautiful,” says Charlie.

Sabiya nods. She’s leading them straight to the water. “Did you know how to swim?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“I think it will be easier and safer to do this over the water.” She pauses and turns to examine Charlie. “I think it will also be easier if you’re unconscious.”

“Whatever you think is best,” says Charlie. “You’re definitely the expert.”

“Good. On the count of three.”

“Wait, we’re still on lan—” 

Sabiya doesn’t even count, at least not that Charlie can remember. She’s certain the resurrection took longer but to her it’s instantaneous. It happens so quickly she doesn’t even remember blacking out. 

She’s suddenly flailing around in the water and trying to spit salt and sand from her mouth. Strong arms wrap around her and pin her own arms to her sides. She’s maneuvered into a floating position on her back. Salt stings her nose and lips and the ocean smell is heavy. The water is loud and cold. Waves roll and churn around her. Shivering in the wind, she tries to submerge her body into the relative warmth of the water. 

“Welcome back,” says Sabiya.

Charlie blinks at her and coughs again. Thankfully she remembers how to tread water.

“Does anything hurt?”

Everything hurts. That’s an easy answer, but more importantly she can feel the pain so she laughs. “Yes,” she says.

Sabiya nods. “That’s good.” She grabs Charlie again and with another whiplash-inducing move they’re back at the house.

Charlie is shivering in Sabiya’s arms. She can feel the cold air on her skin, the warmth of Sabiya’s body, the rough concrete patio beneath her feet, and she can smell the air. Her eyes sting as she inhales the scent of salt in the wind.

She readjusts her arms and holds onto the angel with purpose. “Thank you,” she says. Her voice is muffled against Sabiya’s neck but she must have heard Charlie because she returns the embrace.

She should let go but she’s trying to pour her gratitude into the hug. “Thank you so much,” she whispers. Tears are welling up in her eyes. She doesn’t want to cry, but it’s too late.

With tears come memories and emotions, her life seeps back into her body and she remembers who she was, who she is now. Shame hits her first, as it always does. It tells her not to cry against the angel, not to stain her with tears. It tells her she’s gay and she owes it to Sabiya to warn her. She remembers when she first accepted herself for who she was. She remembers feeling like a predator around other women. She remembers avoiding female friendships for the first few years. It makes sense that shame comes first. It tells her she’s dangerous, unclean, sick. It reminds her that she died because she was selfish, because she ran away from Rowena and Castiel. Whatever happened to her family happened because of her. It reminds her she’s alone.

She stumbles back from Sabiya and clutches her stomach. Her knees buckle and she falls. Sabiya catches her because she’s an angel, because she’s wonderful and kind. Charlie has asked too much of her already. 

Sabiya doesn’t say anything. She lifts Charlie in her arms and carries her into the house. She carries her through the expanse of rooms and hallways, up an overly grand spiral staircase, down another hallway, through a massive bedroom and finally into a large, white-tiled bathroom.

She sets Charlie down on a thick blue rug in front of the sink. Suddenly she’s holding a cup of water and telling Charlie to drink.

Charlie gulps more than drinks. She didn’t realize her throat was burning. She wonders if she’s ever been self-sufficient, or if someone has always had to look out for her.

“Where are you?” asks Sabiya. Her voice is soft and quiet.

“Your house,” answers Charlie. “Somewhere on the Oregon coast.”

“Good.” She presses a warm, wet washcloth to Charlie’s forehead. “I wanted you to ease back into life more naturally, with a shower and dinner, but I think you’ve done enough for today.” 

Suddenly Charlie is dry and mercifully warm. Her throat doesn’t burn and her stomach doesn’t ache. She shivers involuntarily at the abrupt change. 

“You still need to sleep,” Sabiya says. “We’ll pick out a room for you later. For now, make yourself comfortable in my room.” Sabiya is still soaked with salt water and she looks very pale. She helps Charlie stand, leads her to the bed and tucks her in.

 Charlie is tired. She didn’t even realize it, but she’s exhausted. Her eyes are heavy as looks up at the angel. “Lucifer,” she says.

“He can’t find us here. The house is thoroughly warded. Don’t worry about the brothers, I’ll contact them and make sure they’re safe. You just rest.”

Charlie doesn’t know what she says after that. She’s too tired. 

* * *

Sunlight wakes her. She rubs her eyes then jolts upright in the bed. Angels, Lucifer, Castiel, Sam and Dean.

She tumbles out of bed and makes her way through the house. She wasn’t paying enough attention when Sabiya took her upstairs and the stupid house is way too big. She finds a staircase and heads to the ground floor. She ignores the fact that she’s pretty sure she remembers going up a spiral staircase and this one is straight.

“Sabiya,” she calls.

“In the kitchen,” she answers.

One wrong turn later, Charlie finds Sabiya sitting at a breakfast nook in front of a large bay window. She has milk, cereal and an extra bowl on the table in front of her. 

“This place is enormous,” says Charlie. 

Sabiya nods. “I lucked out with this vessel,” she says. “Her parents invented toothpicks or computers or something. She’s loaded.” She gestures to a seat across the table. “Eat.”

Charlie takes a seat. “Is she in there?” she asks. “The soul?” She grabs the cereal and fixes a bowl. She’s surprised she’s hungry. 

“No. She died a few years ago. I keep up appearances though.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You know, I go to family events, answer texts from friends, go to brunch with them; people stuff.” 

“You’re pretending to be—” Charlie can’t find the right word.

“Her name was Vanessa,” she says. “And yes. As far as anyone knows, Vanessa is alive and well and much happier than she used to be if not a little more reserved.”

Charlie can’t figure out if she has a moral objection to that or not. 

“Judge me later,” says Sabiya. “Eat your cereal and I’ll tell you how I’m going to contact the Winchesters.” 

Charlie shoves a spoonful into her mouth.

“I’ve found a decent excuse to get Sam alone,” says Sabiya. “A friend of a friend sells him herbs and occult supplies. He’s supposed to pick up a few items this afternoon. I’ll wait for him, scan him for spells to make sure Lucifer isn’t tracking or listening, then I’ll tell him what we know and give him your research.”

“When do we leave?”

“ _I_ leave soon. _You_ stay here and make sure you don’t develop resurrection sickness.”

Charlie almost spits out her food. “What’s resurrection sickness?” 

“It happens when a soul rejects a newly formed body. It’s not common, but it can happen.” 

“What are the symptoms?” 

“You’ll know if it happens. The pain is excruciating. If it happens while I’m gone, I’ll come right back.”

“Will I die again?” 

“No. I can fix it. But it’s too risky to take you away from the house for now. A soul at odds with a body is like a beacon to angels.” 

Charlie crosses her hands over her stomach. “That’s good to know, I guess.” She wonders how much “excruciating pain” is going to hurt.

“I’ll let you know what happens. It shouldn’t take long.”

Charlie frowns at her. “Are you fucking with me?”

“How so?” she asks.

“I’ve never heard of resurrection sickness.” 

“Have you ever been resurrected?” 

Charlie pokes at her cereal. “Just the once,” she mutters.

“You can come with me if you want, but it’s risky,” says Sabiya, “and since I’m now responsible for the safety of you and your stupid friends, I’d like to take as few risks as possible.”

“Yeah,” says Charlie, “you’re right.”

“After this you can pick out your bedroom.” 

“Ok,” says Charlie. She means to sound interested, but her heart isn’t in it. She’s in a beautiful mansion, with her own guardian angel, but her feelings are still coming back and the lonely ache she felt as a ghost is starting to gnaw at her again. She’d give anything to see her family one more time.

Sabiya clears her throat. “How’s the cereal?” she asks. 

“It’s great,” she answers. It’s true. It might be the best thing she’s ever eaten even if it is just a bowl of cornflakes. The novelty of living again hasn’t worn off but it’s certainly taken a backseat to seeing the Winchesters. 

“I figured we’d go for something quick and easy. I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up.”

Charlie nods. She can’t ask Sabiya to put off seeing Sam. The boys need to know about Lucifer as soon as possible. Lucifer is looking for her. She can’t really afford to see them until he’s gone. Her stomach drops and she’s suddenly lost her appetite. They could be dead. Why would Lucifer leave them alive?

“There are a ton of bedrooms in this place,” says Sabiya. “There’s one I think you’ll really like. It has a great view.”

Charlie nods again and takes a deep drink of water. Lucifer probably hasn’t killed them. Sam is his true vessel. Surely, if he were dead Lucifer would be using his body instead of Cas’. Charlie decides to believe the boys are alive. They have to be. 

“Earth to Ghostie.” Sabiya snaps her fingers. 

“Sorry,” mutters Charlie. “I was thinking about Sam and Dean.”

“I’m sure they’re all right. Creation would be in an uproar if something happened. Even I heard the news last time one of them died.” 

“That actually makes me feel better,” says Charlie. 

Sabiya stands and takes her bowl to the sink. “Do you want to see the room?” 

“Yes,” answers Charlie.

The room turns out to be just down the hall from Sabiya’s bedroom. It has it’s own bathroom attached and there are already clothes in the closet. 

“Like it?” asks Sabiya.

“It’s beautiful,” answers Charlie. The view is fantastic. It looks out over the sand and water. 

“Good. Make yourself at home. I, um, should probably get going.” 

Charlie bites her lip. She has too many things she wants to say, messages she wants Sabiya to deliver. Most of all, she wants to tell Sam and Dean she loves them and she’s sorry. 

“I’ll be back soon. If you need me you can pray or call my cell. I wrote my number on the pad next to the kitchen phone.”

Charlie nods. “Thank you,” she says.

“Take it easy until I get back.”

“I will.” 

Sabiya leaves with a quiet flutter of wings.


	6. Grace Magic

Sabiya makes it as far as the apartment above the garage. She stumbles and almost catches herself, but she’s too tired and her reflexes are getting worse. It took everything to bring Charlie back to life and to maintain the façade of good health.

Winded, she drags herself to the bed and manages to crawl beneath the covers. She’ll recover, but it’s going to take a while. She lied about going to see Sam. She lied about resurrection sickness. She lied about knowing someone who knew the Winchesters. When she goes back to Charlie, she’ll lie again and say the meeting was successful, the boys are safe, they’re working on a plan to banish Lucifer and they miss Charlie very much.

She’ll work out the details of the lie later. Right now she needs to sleep. Her charge is safe, that’s all she cares about at the moment. 

She doesn’t dream. She sleeps deeply for a few hours and wakes up resenting her alarm. She’s a little steadier on her feet so she stumbles over to the large safe in the corner. It’s not exactly inconspicuous but she doesn’t really need it to be. They day someone steals its contents will be the day she starts to die. 

Her grace is poisoned and she did it to herself. Lucifer clearly saw it. He knows she’s using grace-magic. He knows she can’t last forever. 

She enters the combination and opens the heavy door. She selects one of glowing vials from the top shelf and kneels in front of the safe. She met Charlie just as her strength was fading. Normally she’d be able to ride the last tendrils of healthy grace for another month or two. If she keeps going like this her supplies won’t last. 

She takes a small blade and pricks two fingers. She draws the symbol for her grace with the blood. Once complete, she carefully pours the contents of the vial into the center. 

She watches the blue glowing substance dance and swirl above her blood. She waits for it to settle, then covers it with her hands. It sparks in recognition of an angel, like all grace is supposed to do. This grace belonged to one of her siblings. She doesn’t remember their name. 

In the beginning she thought about naming the vials, that way she could pay tribute to whoever was sustaining her. She decided against it in the end. She wasn’t sorry for killing them. The fights were fair and she won honestly. It would be tacky to pretend she was sorry. 

She urges her weakened grace forward and lets it connect to the grace beneath her palms. Considering how forbidden the ritual is it’s remarkably easy to perform. 

The stolen grace bonds with hers in a matter of minutes. She feels it run through her, feels it mend her broken vessel. Her grace devours it and strips it of its identity. The angel it belonged to is gone forever.

It’s easier to just steal grace and use it to boost her strength. She tried that during the first year after the fall. It brought her wings back, but only temporarily and it made her sick after several weeks. It wasn’t a viable solution. 

Most warriors know the ritual to bind grace. It’s forbidden, an offense worthy of banishment, and there is a steep price. Once an angel forces stolen grace to bind with their own, their grace is forever weakened. It will always need more grace to keep the angel strong. There are no success stories about angels who have engaged in the ritual. There have been a handful of angels who attempted it but they were killed by those with higher moral standards.

She inhales deeply and wonders if this is the greatest sin she’ll ever commit. It began innocent enough, or as innocent as an act of greed can be. A fight broke out between her and another angel. She was winning and had the foresight to capture their grace before she killed them. She wanted to fly again and that was the only way.

She wipes her hands, uses a bit of newly strengthened grace to clean up the blood, then locks the safe. 

It’s dark outside and it’s dark in her apartment. She can watch the house from the window and not risk being seen. Lights are on inside and she hopes that means Charlie is making herself comfortable. 

It’s difficult to be around a human for so long. Charlie is pure and sincere. She’s the exact opposite of Sabiya. Charlie is brave and determined. Sabiya is just angry. She tells herself she’s angry with Heaven and her rage justifies her slaughter. She tells herself Heaven betrayed her all those years ago. She needs the lies. They keep her focused. 

She needs to work on her next lie. She needs to be convincing when she tells Charlie about seeing Sam. 

She waits for another half hour before going back to the house. She walks the short distance and lets herself in. She should have locked the doors before she left. Clearly she was wrong to assume Charlie would do it. The house is quiet except for muffled banging upstairs. 

She follows the noise and finds Charlie sitting on the floor of her new bedroom, surrounded by four computers. 

“What are you doing?” 

Charlie jumps. “Oh, you’re back,” she says. “How did it go?” 

“It went well. We discussed a strategy to expel Lucifer from Castiel’s vessel.” 

“That’s great! What are you going to do?” 

“I wasn’t invited to help. I don’t know what they’re planning. Sam wasn’t in favor of sharing many of his ideas. Apparently I’m ‘suspicious’.” 

“I guess you are a little suspicious,” says Charlie. “That’s ok though. Did you give them the flash drives?” 

“Yes. Sam thought that was suspicious as well.” Sabiya clears her throat. At least part of her story should be true. “They still think you’re dead. They’re heartbroken about it.” 

“Then where the hell do they think the flash drives came from?” 

“I told them they were from you and that Heaven sent me to deliver them.” 

“And Sam bought that?” 

“I’m honestly not sure. He accepted the flash drives though.” 

“How did he look? Did you see Dean? Did they look all right?” 

“Sam looked fine. Dean wasn’t there, but Sam mentioned him and they are both doing well.” 

Charlie runs a hand over her face. “Thank you,” she says. “I owe you everything.”

“It’s angel business,” says Sabiya. “You don’t owe me anything.”

For a second, Charlie looks like she might cry. She doesn’t. She clenches her jaw and nods, then goes back to tinkering with her machines. 

“Seriously, though,” says Sabiya. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to hack into the bunker,” answers Charlie. “I set up a failsafe last time I was there in case I needed to contact the boys long distance or if we needed to look in on the bunker from far away. If I can get into the system I can watch them without them knowing it. Lucky for me Sam’s never far away from his laptop.” 

Sabiya isn’t sure what that means but it doesn’t sound good. It sounds like the perfect way for her human charge to figure out her lie. She shoots a covert bolt of grace at something important looking. It might be the laptop. The screen flickers, then goes black. 

Charlie panics. “No, no, no,” she mutters. “Shit.”

“What happened?” asks Sabiya. 

“I must have overloaded it. Dammit. I’m not sure,” answers Charlie. “Dammit,” she says again. She runs her fingers through her bright red hair. “That’s ok. This is ok. I can rebuild. I can fix this. I just need another computer.” She’s surprisingly calm as she flips the laptop over and begins taking it apart. 

Sabiya sighs and sits on the floor across from her. “So you like computers,” she says. 

“Yeah,” answers Charlie. “I’m a big, shameless nerd.” 

“What else do you like?” She’s not going to let Charlie succeed in completing her machine. The least she can do is entertain her while she struggles in vain. 

“Lots of things,” answers Charlie. She got a screwdriver and is starting to pry the bottom off of the laptop. “Beer, books, pop culture.”

“I like those things too,” says Sabiya. “Vanessa had a ton of books. At least I can say she was well read. What kind of books do you like?”

“Mostly science fiction and fantasy, but I can’t say no to a good thriller or mystery novel. Sometimes historical non-fiction is good, but I don’t read as many smarty-pants books as I should.” 

“How about movies?” 

“Well, I’d love to say the Harry Potter movies are my favorite but they’ll never be as good as the books. I guess I like sci-fi and comedies the most.” 

“Maybe we could watch a movie in a little bit,” says Sabiya. It’s a lame attempt to distract Charlie from her work, but it’s worth trying. “I’ll figure out something for dinner and you can pick a movie.” 

Charlie pauses and looks up at her for a moment. Her cheeks flush pink and she quickly returns to her work. “That sounds nice,” she says. “Let’s just order pizza. Oh,” she says, looking up again. “Can we get cheese sticks? I miss cheese sticks so much. And cheese. You’ve had cheese, right?” She sighs deeply. “Man, now I’m hungry.” 

Sabiya laughs. “I’ll order pizza. You pick out a movie. Vanessa’s collection is down the hall in the library.” Sabiya leaves Charlie to her tinkering and hopes the human will take that as a cue to ditch the computers. 

She orders everything with extra cheese. When she hangs up, she finds Charlie has left her bedroom. Relived the distraction was successful she checks the library. Charlie is kneeling in front of a wall of DVDs.

“Find something?” she asks. 

“Vanessa was a huge fan of chick flicks,” says Charlie. “This collection is crazy.” 

“We can watch a chick flick if you want. I don’t have a preference.” 

Charlie looks away and eyes her for a second. “That’s ok,” she says. “I’m not really a chick flick kind of girl.” She picks a movie from the shelf. “How about Star Wars?” 

“That’s a good one,” says Sabiya. “I saw A New Hope when it came out in theaters.”

Charlie’s jaw drops. “That’s amazing! Tell me all about it!” 

Sabiya obliges and recites the event to the best of her memory. They make themselves comfortable in the living room. For the first time since she fell, she loses herself in a conversation. Charlie is wide-eyed and captivated. She’s nodding and grinning through the entire story. She’s listening and she keeps asking to hear more. Sabiya tells her more.

The pizza arrives and interrupts them but Charlie remembers where they were and prompts Sabiya to continue. They move on from movies and the cheese sticks temporarily distract Charlie.

Sabiya doesn’t remember how they got to the topic of Vanessa’s family, but she remembers they have a party coming up soon.

“It’s for her father,” says Sabiya. “I can’t miss it. He’ll be 80 and I think the family is going to make a big deal about it.”

“Eighty is a big deal,” says Charlie.

“Would you go with me?” asks Sabiya. “I’ve kept in touch with Vanessa’s friends but it’s tedious trying to hang out with them for long periods of time. They’re very boring.” 

“Yes,” answers Charlie quickly. “Do we get to leave the house or is the party here?”

“We get to leave the house,” answers Sabiya. "In fact, we get to leave the state. Their house is in California."

“That's great! Not that I feel stuck here or anything. I mean it’s only been a day or two. I guess I thought we had to hide here until Lucifer is back in the cage.” 

“I’ll take precautions,” says Sabiya. Her vessel is warded well enough but Charlie will be a beacon. She’ll need to carve sigils into her bones to keep her safe. It’s going to take a significant amount of energy. 

“I guess I don’t have resurrection sickness, right?” asks Charlie. “If you’re planning to take me somewhere in the future I guess that means you expect me to live.”

“I expect you to live, yes. You’re safe. The house is still the safest place for you—for us—but I need to maintain appearances and we both deserve to have some fun. The party is in two weeks so you’ll be nice and stir-crazy by then.”

“I’m stir-crazy just thinking about it.”

Eventually one of them remembers they were going to watch a movie. Despite the cruisers and destroyers fighting loudly on the screen, they remain distracted and talk until the credits roll. If Sabiya feels guilty about enjoying their time after lying so much, she doesn’t let it stop her.


	7. Diving In

Charlie almost tells her. Charlie has almost told her everyday. They’ve lived together for a week and a half and not once has there been a good reason for her to tell Sabiya she’s gay. She’s not even sure why she wants to tell her.

Perhaps that isn’t entirely true. Sabiya is appealing in a number of ways. It’s not a crush. Charlie just wants to let her know because reasons. She’s done worrying about “warning” Sabiya. She’s a lesbian, not a wolf.

The problem is they have nothing to do other than sit around and bond. Sabiya is attentive and ridiculously interested in Charlie’s life. They work well together and swap stories. Sabiya’s are infinitely more interesting, but she always seems so entertained by what Charlie tells her that it doesn’t matter. They feel equal.

At the moment, Charlie is lying in bed thinking about how soft Sabiya’s hair looks when the wind blows through it. She’s like a Disney princess. She covers her face with her hands and tells herself to focus. Her brothers need help and she should be brainstorming ways to lock Lucifer away. Instead she’s thinking about how much fun it was to splash around in the pool this afternoon. 

Of course Vanessa had a pool, of course she owned a million bikinis and of course Sabiya looks like a goddess in all of them.

Charlie, on the other hand, managed to find the only one piece and spent most of the time making sure she was properly covered. They’ll go swimming again tomorrow. The pool is heated and perfect and there is a mini fridge with obnoxious amounts of white wine outside. It’s like the house itself is shipping them. 

She can’t sleep. Defeated, she goes to her ridiculously over-sized bathroom and takes a bikini with her. She changes quickly and her fingers fumble with the ties. She stands in front of the floor length mirror with her eyes closed. She waits until she’s brave enough, then takes a peek. 

She glares at her reflection. She’s pasty and lumpy in all the wrong places. Sabiya has beautiful brown skin and long black hair. In the sunlight, she looks like a renaissance masterpiece. 

Charlie shakes herself from her thoughts. She can’t afford keep doing this. Suddenly she hears footsteps pounding toward her room. She turns in time to see Sabiya burst into the bathroom, do a double take, stumble backwards then trip and fall. 

Her head hits the hard tile and Charlie hurries to help her. “You’re bleeding,” she says. 

“I’m ok,” says Sabiya. “I heard you praying. Are you all right?”

Charlie freezes. “I was praying?” 

“You called my name.” 

Charlie knows she’s blushing, then to make things worse, she remembers she’s in her bathing suit. She’d give anything to disappear right now.

“Are you ok?” 

“Yes,” answers Charlie. “Are you?”

The bleeding has stopped and Sabiya is steady on her feet. “I’m fine.” The blood vanishes from her hair. “Angel perks.” 

“Sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to pray. I was just thinking about, um, swimming.” Charlie has never been a great liar, especially around women. “I was wondering if you, um, could teach me to dive.” She mentally kicks herself. “I saw you diving today and you’ve got great form. My form sucks. So yeah, that’s why I was thinking about you.” 

To her surprise, Sabiya blushes. “I can teach you,” she says. She eyes Charlie’s attire. “Do you want to do it now?”

Charlie can’t think of a better reason to explain her bathing suit so she agrees. Ten minutes later they’re back at the pool under the moonlight. They’re standing together on the diving board and Sabiya is helping Charlie adjust her stance.

Charlie decides this is a very vivid fantasy. Sabiya is right behind her with a hand on her hip telling her how to stand. Charlie is desperate for any shred of composure she can find. “So,” she says, “you aren’t sleepy?” 

“Angels don’t need sleep,” answers Sabiya.

“You slept the first night we met.”

“I was tired.”

Charlie glances over her shoulder, then rolls her eyes.

“Don’t sass me,” says Sabiya. “And bend your knees.”

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You rolled your eyes.” She kicked at Charlie’s ankle. “Bend your knees, what are you, steel?”

Charlie bends, then instantly flinches when Sabiya puts both hands on her hips. 

“Center of the board,” says Sabiya. “There you go. And just so you know, angels don’t _need_ sleep but some of us _like_ sleep.” 

“Thank you for clarifying,” says Charlie. 

“You’re welcome.” She lifts Charlie’s arms and tells her to position her hands. “Now jump,” she says. 

It helps that Charlie already knows how to dive; or rather, it should help, but Charlie doesn’t stick the landing. She purposely kicks her feet at the end and makes an unnecessary splash. If it's an excuse to get Sabiya to keep helping her, no one else needs to know. When she surfaces, she turns back to the board but Sabiya is standing near the ladder instead. 

“That looked like it hurt,” she says. 

“I’m ok,” says Charlie. She swims to the ladder and Sabiya helps her out of the pool. Charlie hasn’t seen many chick flicks but she knows the clichés. She’s aware enough to know she’s living a chick flick right now. She wonders if Sabiya knows it, too.

“Stand here and watch me,” says Sabiya. “Your feet did a weird thing. Keep them straight next time.” She goes to the diving board, jumps, and makes a perfect dive. “Your turn,” she says. 

Charlie returns to the board. 

“Remember your stance,” says Sabiya. “And bend your knees.” She’s treading water off to the side of where Charlie will land.

Charlie jumps with more finesse this time. She surfaces right in front of the angel. 

“That was great,” says Sabiya. “You’re a fast learner.”

“Thanks,” says Charlie. They’re treading water with less than a foot between them. She remembers Dean saying Castiel had no concept of personal space, but she’s always thought that was due more to their “profound bond” than a lack of awareness. 

Sabiya doesn’t seem to either notice or care that Charlie is so close. Admittedly, Charlie is the one who invaded her space, but Sabiya seems fine with that. Her eyes flicker down toward Charlie’s chin and she clenches her jaw. She sighs and looks back up, a slight smile pulling at her lips.

“You’re doing really well,” says Sabiya.

“Yeah?” Charlie doesn’t know what she’s referring to but at the moment it doesn’t matter. She can’t remember the last time she had a crush this severe.

“I’ve seen resurrections before and it usually takes people a while to fully come back,” she says. “But you hopped back into life like you weren’t even dead. I’m not sure you were meant to die in the first place.”

“I didn’t want to die,” says Charlie. She doesn’t mean to add breathiness to her voice but her body has gone into full wooing mode. She can’t seduce an angel. She’s sure there are rule against that somewhere. If it were allowed Castiel and Dean would be married by now.

Sabiya’s eyes flicker down again. This time when she smiles it seems forced. “Aren’t you sleepy?” she asks. 

“No,” breathes Charlie. 

“Well, I am,” says Sabiya. She yawns and begins swimming toward the edge of the pool.

Charlie’s heart sinks. 

“Come on,” says Sabiya. “It’s past your human bedtime. We’ll practice more tomorrow.” 

Charlie climbs out of the pool behind her and Sabiya hands her a towel. “I’m gay,” says Charlie. She doesn’t know what compels her to blurt it out, but she can’t take it back now.

“Emotionally or sexually?” asks Sabiya.

“Um,” answers Charlie.

“Like, happy and gay or homosexual?” 

“Oh, homosexual.” 

“Cool,” says Sabiya. “Angels don’t have gender or sexual preference.”

Charlie nods. She’s still not sure why she said it. In terms of pickup lines, it’s by far her worst. “I guess I wanted to let you know. It makes some women uncomfortable.” 

Sabiya scowls suddenly. “Who?” she asks. “Was someone mean to you? Have you seen anyone other than me since you came back? Was it someone in Vanessa's family?”

“No,” answers Charlie quickly. “No one specifically. I just wanted you to know because we’re friends and friends tell each other these things.” 

“Oh,” says Sabiya. Her scowl subsides. “Ok. That’s fine then. Tell me if someone is mean to you though. I can certainly put a stop to it.”

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Charlie goes to bed that night and dreams of angels.


	8. The Party

Sabiya was _not_ expecting to run in and find Charlie modeling a bikini. She’s sitting on the edge of her bed still wrapped in her towel from the pool. She’s been replaying the moment over and over. She tripped and fell like a toddler, like she had no control over her vessel. Charlie has a strange impact on her, almost like a spell. 

She’d looked amazing, silhouetted by the stars with her red hair blazing even in the dark, like fire embodied. Resurrecting Charlie Bradbury might be the best thing Sabiya’s ever done. 

She rests her elbows on her knees and hides her face in her hands. She’s not a guardian angel, but she tells herself what she’s feeling is the guardian instinct. Charlie’s safety is what draws her in and compels her to watch and care and shamelessly come running as soon as the human prays her name.

That’s another problem. Charlie’s prayer wasn’t desperate or loud. She’d almost whispered it and Sabiya dropped everything. She’s defenseless. Charlie is becoming a weakness in more ways than she cares to count. 

The night before the party brings another problem. Sabiya is asleep when she hears Charlie this time. She wakes up and her senses struggle to rally. She hears the sound again. Charlie is crying out. 

Sabiya runs to her room for a second time in less than a week. Charlie isn’t praying. These sounds are intentional. She opens her bedroom door, grace sparking in her fingertips. She’s ready to kill. 

The lights are off. Charlie is in her bed. She’s pushed the covers away and she’s babbling. 

Sabiya creeps closer. It’s either a spell or a nightmare. Charlie’s face is contorted in a pained expression. She’s talking, or trying to, but the words come out jumbled and slurred. It’s a dream. 

Sabiya places her hand over Charlie’s forehead and catches a glimpse of what she’s seeing.

A man is breaking through a door. He comes at Charlie with a knife. He’s stabbing her over and over again and Charlie feels all of it. She trips and falls backwards into a bathtub and hits her head. Through the pain, Charlie is thinking of one thing, her family. She’s failed them. She fails everyone.

Sabiya banishes the dream and sends Charlie into a deep, peaceful sleep. Her hand might linger too long on Charlie’s face. She might keep watch longer than necessary. Deep down, she might know staying with Charlie isn’t a guardian compulsion.

* * * 

The birthday party is at the family ranch in Montana. Sabiya flies them to the event. She’s already used too much grace today. In an act of almost pure frivolity, she’d snapped her fingers and made the clothes in Charlie’s wardrobe fit her better. Vanessa was a size or two larger but Charlie found a dark blue gown in her closet that looked amazing on her. Sabiya took that opportunity to adjust all of the clothes Charlie was using.

The party is formal and the gown Charlie is wearing is breathtaking, or maybe Charlie is breathtaking. It’s difficult to tell the difference. Sabiya selects something in black and adds blue and silver jewelry. Charlie wears a silver and onyx necklace with corresponding earrings. They match but neither of them mentions it. 

When they arrive at the party, one of Vanessa’s aunts is quick to approach. Sabiya introduces Charlie. She hasn’t brought a friend to an event since she took over Vanessa’s body. She’s prepared for questions and speculation. The aunt pulls Sabiya to the side while Charlie searches for drinks.

“Who is your new friend?” she asks.

“Just a friend,” answers Sabiya. She kicks herself because that sounds suspicious.

“She’s gorgeous.” 

“I know.” She kicks herself again. 

The aunt raises her eyebrow. “You have to introduce us. How long have you known her?” 

“A few weeks.”

“I’m surprised you brought her. You never bring guests anymore. It’s nice to have someone new around.” 

“She’s become a very good friend,” says Sabiya. She feels heat rising in her cheeks. 

“Oh,” says the aunt. “How nice.” 

“She is nice,” says Sabiya. “She’s,” she pauses, “she’s a lot of things.” She can’t help herself at this point. “Charlie is into computers and tech. She’s very smart. I had no idea how much there was to those machines but Charlie’s commandeered almost every computer in the house. The things she can do – it’s amazing.” 

“Every computer in the house? Your house? Are you living together?” 

“Yes,” Sabiya answers weakly. She shouldn’t talk so much but her mind only wants to talk about Charlie and for once, she has someone to actually talk to about her. 

Mercifully, Charlie returns with two glasses of champagne. The introduction goes smoothly, but then the aunt quickly scurries away. She’s a gossip and that’s not a good sign. 

Thirty minutes later Charlie has been introduced to every member of Vanessa’s family. They all agree, she’s very sweet and very pretty. Charlie blushes the entire time and for some reason that makes Sabiya’s chest hurt. She wonders if Charlie is used to compliments. It’s another hour before the two of them are left alone. 

“That was interesting,” says Charlie. 

“Sorry. I don’t normally bring anyone. I think I’m the only family member who doesn’t show up with a date.” Sabiya snaps her mouth shut. 

Charlie grins. “Well, I’m proud to be your date,” she says. She’s blushing too. Maybe it’s the champagne doing them in; maybe it’s making them honest. 

Sabiya hopes it’s honesty. “Do you want to get some air?” she asks. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” Charlie grabs two more glasses of champagne when a waiter walks by. Sabiya can’t remember how much they’ve had to drink at this point. 

The moon is bright and high outside. It’s almost like day light and, maybe it’s the alcohol, but Charlie’s practically glowing. 

“You look lovely,” says Sabiya. 

“Thank you. So do you.” 

The noise from the party disappears. Sabiya’s never felt anything like this. Humans seem to feel the compulsion to physically engage all the time, but it’s never affected her. Vanessa even had a boyfriend before she died. Sabiya broke up with him to save him from her disinterest. She’s drawn to other human things; food, sleep, warmth, not romance or human interaction. But she’s pulled to Charlie like a planet to the sun. Or maybe more like a meteor, because she’s not just staying in Charlie’s orbit. She’s going to collide and burn on her surface. 

She doesn’t mean to sway closer to Charlie. She doesn’t realize how long she’s been silently staring into her eyes. She doesn’t understand the sudden pain in her heart, the longing, the ache. She wants Charlie, all of her. She brushes a strand of hair from Charlie’s face and it burns like touching fire. It’s deeply satisfying. 

Charlie swallows hard, almost a gulp.

Sabiya cups her cheek. She wants to be strong and sure but she’s trembling. She’s never felt the much before. The sheer volume of emotion is overwhelming. She’s so lost she almost doesn’t hear the screams.

She leans forward just as Charlie cranes her neck upward to meet her. The screams grow louder. 

Their lips meet briefly. It’s soft and fulfilling. It’s everything. The screams begin pouring outside, invading their night. People are fleeing the party. Some are already injured. Sabiya breaks away from Charlie’s lips and she feels herself moving at half speed. Without a second thought, she wraps her human in her arms and returns them home.

Charlie is wide-eyed. “What’s happening?” she asks.

“They found us,” answers Sabiya. She’s taken them to the basement of Vanessa’s house. There’s a panic room and she pushes Charlie inside. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” 

She hears Charlie scream her name as she leaves. She lands in the middle of chaos. Demons are tearing through guests, searching for Charlie. Lucifer isn’t with them but it doesn’t matter. The demons here have enough power on their own. 

Sabiya draws her sword and slashes through the first two. She’s not sure how many there are, but she’s got the element of surprise for the first few. It doesn’t take the rest long to find her. 

They form a circle around her and attack at once. It’s a blurry, frenzied attack without plan or prestige. They’re fighting to maim and kill. Sabiya is not strong enough. She’ll survive, but it won’t be a clean victory. 

She fights without bothering to save the vessels and there’s no time to mourn the fallen. She can see members of Vanessa’s family. She thinks they’ve survived. Her heart is pounding like a timer. Each beat tells her she’s becoming more human.

It’s not over quickly and her job isn’t finished when the demons are dead. She has to work fast. The guests can’t remember it this way. She can’t leave the wounded to suffer. She has to gather and rearrange the dead. 

She collects the humans and stages it to look like gas fire. She calls 911 and leaves the guests to remember something less terrifying but no less tragic. They’ll remember she and Charlie left early. They’ll remember smelling something strange, gas, not sulfur. They’ll remember an explosion. Those closest to the blast died, three unpossessed and twelve possessed; twelve people who died because Sabiya wasn’t strong enough or fast enough or careful enough.

She wobbles and steadies herself against the side of the house outside. The sirens ring out through the night. She sees their lights in the distance. She doesn’t have long. She’s not sure if she can make the flight home. Shoes in her hand, she pushes away from the house and stumbles away barefoot through the grass. 

She makes it to the edge of the farm just as the firemen finish putting out the flames. She crouches against a fence post in the darkness. Chest heaving, she gathers her grace. She clenches her teeth and flies.

She hits the ground hard, stumbles and falls. She crawls toward the guesthouse. She has to get to the grace. This might be the end. It’s cold, there’s a light rain. Everything hurts. Her elbows shake and give out beneath her. She collapses, face down in the mud. This is it. She’s going to die. 


	9. Liar

Charlie doesn’t wait in the panic room. She goes to her new laptop, now loaded with the information from her flash drive, and searches for anything she can find to help. She can fight. She’s got sigils and spells and no idea how to cast or use them.

She gives up on her computer and runs outside. Logically she knows she can’t run to Montana. She can’t drive there in any reasonable amount of time. She has to wait. She returns to the house and begins searching Sabiya’s room. Surely an angel has secret weapons.

Sam and Dean probably aren’t any closer to Montana than she is. Castiel isn’t an option and she doesn’t know if angels will help or hurt. 

Sabiya’s room doesn’t produce anything useful. Charlie tears the house apart and she doesn’t know what she’s looking for. If she can find something to either send her to Sabiya or bring Sabiya home, that would be perfect, but Charlie has no idea how to do that. She’s not even sure she’d recognize an ingredient for a spell if she found one.

She hears something outside. She rushes out of the front door. It’s raining. She sees a figure in the driveway. She knows it’s Sabiya before she gets to her. Something in her can feel it. She hurries to her side. The angel is unresponsive but her pulse is strong. She’s burned, covered in blood and her gown is ripped to shreds.

Charlie gathers her into her arms and lifts her. She carries her into the house, upstairs and into the master bathroom. 

“Come on, come on, come one,” she mutters to herself. Sabiya is freezing. Charlie takes her to the walk-in shower and lays her gently on the tiled floor. She turns on the water; careful to make sure it’s not too hot and sits with the angel under the spray. “Stupid,” she whispers. “You shouldn’t have taken me away. Come back. I know you’re in there. Come back.” 

She sits with Sabiya’s back against her chest and holds her, helping her warm up. “You shouldn’t be this cold,” she says. She splashes water over bloodstains, searching for damage. 

She’s cut and bruised in a million different places but none of her injuries seem too severe. It looks like she was able to partially heal herself before she passed out. 

“Sorry in advance,” says Charlie. She eases Sabiya out of her tattered gown. “I need to make sure you’re not bleeding.” She strips Sabiya down to her bra and underwear and carefully inspects her body. 

She looks much better now that the water has washed away most of the blood and grime but her skin is still too cold. Charlie leaves her just long enough to turn the water to a warmer temperature, then resumes her position holding the angel. 

“I’m sorry. I tried to get to you,” says Charlie. “I can fight. I could have helped you. Next time I’ll be prepared. And there will be a next time.” She squeezes the angel close. “You’re going to be all right. We’ll get through this and when the fight comes at us again we’ll be ready.”

Sabiya’s fingers twitch. “My fault,” she mumbles. 

Charlie lets out a deep breath. “Oh thank god. I thought you were dead.” 

“Not yet.” Her voice is weak and strained.

“What’s hurt? What can I fix?” 

“Nothing,” murmurs Sabiya. 

Charlie hugs her tighter to her chest. “You’re pretty banged up. Can you heal yourself any more?” 

Sabiya shakes her head. “The safe,” she mutters. “Need it.”

“What safe?” 

“Guesthouse.”

“Dammit,” says Charlie. “I looked everywhere for your stash of magic crap but I didn’t even think to check the guesthouse. Why’d you hide it so far away? Can you stand? I need to get you to a chair so I can patch you up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, slurring her words slightly.

“Come on,” says Charlie. She half lifts, half helps Sabiya to her feet. She wraps her in a bathrobe and leads her out to the bedroom.

Charlie checks her again to make sure she’s not bleeding, then helps her settle beneath the covers. Sabiya shivers. “I’ll be right back,” says Charlie. 

She runs down the hall to her room and changes into dry clothes. She leaves her soaked evening gown on the floor. Then she runs to the guesthouse and begins searching for the safe. It’s not hidden. It’s upstairs against a wall. It’s massive, six feet tall and three feet wide. 

Charlie cracks the combination and opens the heavy, metal door. She stumbles back when she sees what’s inside. Bottles filled with bluish-white light sit in rows on the shelf. 

She doesn’t try to figure out what they are. She suspects, though. She’s seen something like it before when she saw Sabiya’s true form. She pushes the thought away and grabs a vial. 

She shuts the safe and makes sure it’s locked, then runs back to the house. When she reaches Sabiya she kneels by the bed and offers her the vial. “This is what you need, right?” 

Sabiya blinks heavily. Her eyes widen when she sees the vial. She looks between it and Charlie. Her eyes begin to water. 

“It’s ok,” says Charlie. “If you need it to heal, take it.” 

Sabiya covers her face with her hand and cries.

Charlie sits on the edge of the bed and pets her hair. “It’s all right. I need you to be ok. If this helps, then it’s what we have to do.” 

“I’m sorry,” says Sabiya. “I’m so sorry.” 

Charlie pulls her hand away from her face. “Listen to me,” she says, “this is grace, right? You need it to get better? I know you’re pretty out of it, but I need you to focus for me.”

Sabiya closes her eyes. “I’ve done horrible things,” she says. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Ok,” says Charlie. “Ok, new plan.” She sets the vial on the table then crawls beneath the covers with Sabiya. “You’re still cold.” To her surprise, the angel turns toward her and hides her face against Charlie’s shoulder.

Charlie runs her fingers through her hair. “It’s ok,” she says. “It’s going to be ok.”

“Fifteen,” says Sabiya. “I lost fifteen of them.” 

Charlie knows enough about war to understand exactly what Sabiya is talking about. “You can’t save everyone.”

“I can’t save anyone.” 

“You saved me.” 

“I’m bad,” she whispers. “If you only knew. I’m not like the others.”

“Cas isn’t like the others and he’s good,” says Charlie. 

For some reason, that makes things worse. Sabiya curls in on herself. “I’ve done terrible things,” she breathes. 

“It’s ok. We all have.”

Sabiya looks up at her. She takes a shaky breath. “Charlie,” she murmurs. “Sam and Dean don’t know.”

Charlie’s heart stops and she freezes. 

“I didn’t see Sam. I lied.” 

Charlie can’t make her body move. She can’t think. She wants to scream. When feeling comes back into her legs, she pushes away from Sabiya.

The angel lets her go. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers. 

Charlie is out of the bed and backing toward the door without realizing it. 

Sabiya doesn’t stop her. She rolls onto her other side, facing away from her. 

Charlie leaves. She takes the laptop she’s been using and does what she should have done weeks ago. She can’t spy on her brothers but she can contact them directly. She’s an idiot for listening to Sabiya. She’s an idiot for thinking she needed to lay low and leave the Winchesters alone. She’s an idiot. 

She logs into the remote software system she installed on Sam’s computer years ago. His desktop appears on her screen. He’s online. He’s probably sitting at his laptop researching a case. It’s safer to contact him like this instead of calling or texting. For all she knows Lucifer has his phone. Then again he could also have his computer. She’s got to trust something.

Charlie remotely opens a word document on his screen. She types _Are you alone?_  

Sam answers quickly. _Who is this?_

_A friend. Is this Sam, Dean or Castiel?_

His reply takes longer this time, but he finally answers. _Sam._

_Are you alone? Is anyone sitting beside you or behind you?_

_No. Who is this?_  

_Castiel is Lucifer. You need to get to safety._

_WHO IS THIS??_

Charlie huffs. It’s a long story, but there’s no need to keep it a secret. _Charlie. It’s hard to explain. I’m alive and I’m safe. Are you guys all right?_

_Did you put spyware on my computer?!?_

_Of course I did. But Cas isn’t Cas!_

_Yeah we figured that out already. We’re trying to figure out how to get him back. How are you alive?_

Suddenly the conversation changes.

_This is Dean. What the fuck, Charlie? You’re alive? Prove you’re you._

Charlie opens up Skype, searches for Sam’s name and calls him. In retrospect, that would have been easier but she needed to make sure he was alone. She doesn’t think about the dying angel she left in the other room. 

They answer her call quickly. They’re both staring at the screen and they start talking at the same time.

“I’m so glad your back,” says Sam.

“How the hell are you alive?” asks Dean. 

“It’s a long story,” says Charlie. “I met an angel. She brought me back.” 

“We burned your body,” says Dean. 

“Yeah, thanks for that,” says Charlie. 

“Sorry,” says Sam. 

“I was attached to a flash drive,” says Charlie. “Or however that works. But that’s not why I called. You guys are in danger. Are you alone? Is Castiel with you?”

“No,” answers Dean. “If you’re sounding the alarm about Lucifer, we found that out the hard way.” 

“I’m so sorry. Are you guys ok?”

“A few bumps and bruises,” answers Dean. “Nothing too serious.” 

“Cas and Lucifer took off,” says Sam. “But we’re working on getting Cas back.” 

“Are you still in touch with the angel that brought you back?” asks Dean. 

Charlie purses her lips. “Yes. I’m at her house, but she’s low on power and we can’t trust her.” She hears a cough behind her. 

Sabiya is leaning against the doorway. Her eyes are half open and she’s still very pale. 

Charlie glares at her and turns the computer. “That’s the angel. She’s been stockpiling stolen grace. We might be able to use it to separate Cas and Lucifer.”

“Does she have a name?” asks Sam.

“Hey, you,” says Dean. “What’s your name?”

Charlie reluctantly makes a space for Sabiya as she joins her in front of the screen.

“I’m Sabiya,” she says. He voice is hoarse and quiet. “You must be the Winchesters.” 

Dean makes a face. “You’ve got to take better care of your angel,” he says. “Sabiya looks sick.” 

“She looks sick,” says Charlie, “but for all I know that’s a lie considering she’s lied about everything else.” 

“Call me crazy,” says Dean, “but I’m getting a real trust-no-bitch vibe. What happened?”

“I deceived her,” answers Sabiya.

“You flat out lied to my face,” says Charlie. “She said she told you and Sam about Lucifer and she didn’t. I would have contacted you guys weeks ago if I’d known.”

“There was no way to be sure they weren’t compromised,” says Sabiya. “For all you know you’re talking to Lucifer right now. Sam Winchester is his true vessel. There’s nothing stopping Lucifer from taking him. Maybe you just gave away our location. Did you consider that?”

“I’d rather gamble with my life than theirs,” snaps Charlie. “If there’s a chance my brothers can be saved, I’m going to take it. I don’t expect you to understand. You only think about yourself.” 

“Funny,” says Sabiya, “because right now I’m thinking about the fifteen people who died because we gambled with our lives.” 

Charlie folds her arms over her chest.

Sabiya rolls her eyes and stumbles to her feet. “Whatever,” she mutters. “You do what you think is best.”

On the screen, Sam clears his throat. “At the risk of sounding suspicious, maybe Dean and I can drive up to where you are.”

Charlie gives them the address without a second thought. “Call me when you’re close and I can meet you if you get lost.”

“We’ll go ahead and hit the road,” says Dean. “We’ll be there in a day or two. Need us to bring anything?” 

“Just the usual stuff. I have no idea what else Sabiya is hiding in this house. All I know about is the grace.”

“Sounds good,” says Sam. “We’ll be there soon.”


End file.
